


Pancakes

by EtincelleDOR



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Lotura - Freeform, Pancakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 23:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17990315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EtincelleDOR/pseuds/EtincelleDOR
Summary: Sequel to "Vertigoberries": Allura ropes Lotor into helping her prepare a surprise for the paladins. Lance realises that revenge is a dish best served from Kaltenecker.





	Pancakes

 

* * *

 

“So guys! Pancake Day?”

Hunk is met with an array of muffled replies from around the breakfast table one morning on the Castle of Lions.

“What?”

“Pancake Day!” he says, “After Christmas went so well, why shouldn’t we indulge in a little batter-induced fun?”

“Wait, it’s only Tuesday.” Lance starts counting on his fingers, “I think. So… Isn’t it like a month too early? It’s more like Valentines Day.”

Pidge shakes her head. “Uh-uh, no way guys. Allura will never allow it, not after Christmas.”

“Oh come on.” Hunk whines, “The whole Christmas thing, it’s subjective, probably overwhelming for unfamiliar alien species. Pancakes are loved universally.”

“She was fine with Christmas in the end Pidge.” Lance retorts.

“She tolerated Christmas at best. She sat there but even I could see her left eye twitching.” Says Pidge, “She might have been fine with it if you hadn’t chased her around the ship with a vomit-inducing bacciferous plant.”

Hunk claps a hand onto Lance’s shoulder with a grin. “Way to go.”

“And don’t,” Pidge starts, shovelling another forkful of paste into her mouth, “Try to do anything creepy for Valentine’s Day.” She says, “All you’re doing, is pushing her further towards Lotor. And I still don’t know how much we should be trusting him.”

“Please can we go back to the pancake conversation?” Lance begs with a disgusted shudder.

“I think I could uh, throw something together.” Says Hunk proudly, “I know a certain someone who can get me eggs. Maybe we could do it to make it up to her for Christmas?”

“It could be a nice gesture.” Says Shiro with a raised eyebrow, “If diplomatically done.”

“I’m just throwing this out here right now.” Says Pidge, pointing her fork at Hunk, “If you do, somehow, manage to find the right ingredients for pancakes in deep space, please do not tell Allura and Coran where the eggs came from. After the fiasco we had with the milk I think what they don’t know, won’t disgust them.”  

Lance shakes his head. “They’ve never looked at Kaltenecker the same way since.”

“All in favour of never telling Allura and Coran where eggs come from say ‘I’.”

“I!”

“Sold!”

“Taking it to the grave.”

Lance peeks around the room suspiciously. “Where is she anyway?”

 

* * *

 

Allura lets a guttural cry from her starving lungs as her entire body is consumed by a wildfire of white-hot pleasure. Her mind shatters into tiny pieces, leaving only beaming stars behind her eyelids. He is on top of her, inside her and moving in deep frantic thrusts, each one drawing unimaginable sounds from her, his fangs leaving red marks on her neck as if to claim her as his own. She hears herself moaning his name as he thrusts again and again, stimulating every raw nerve through the maddening aftershocks of her climax. Trying to remember to breathe, she barely knows where her own limbs are. One hand seems to be tangled in his hair, the other hopelessly gripping at his shoulders, pressing him to her as he comes with a roar and his knot swells, locking them together.

Panting madly, Lotor collapses over her, nuzzling blindly into her neck, and Allura holds him to her as they both recover, as if he is the most precious thing in the universe.

She sighs contentedly, remembering, and not really caring, that she is horrendously late for breakfast.

They were getting braver.

Neither was really ready to have a full discussion about how they felt about each other, or how that fitted in to their plans for the future of the universe. Both knew there was no going back when they fell into her bed for the first time, messy and tangled in each other. She knew then that they would save the universe together or not at all.

Failing to admit to themselves exactly what they were, there was hardly any rush to make it public knowledge. Warmth, or so it seemed, between the Princess of Altea and the Emperor of the Galra, was so strange and so foreign a concept that the other paladins had struggled to get their heads around a potential political alliance, let alone something more personal.

So they say nothing. They had developed a pattern, he and she. Lotor, unbeknownst to the other residents of the ship, slept in Allura’s bed more often than not, and was careful to rise before anyone could catch him. This morning however, they hadn’t quite managed it.

“We are so late.” She murmurs, drawing languid circles on his shoulder blade with her fingertip.

He kisses her pulse gently. “It was worth it, I take it.” He says, and she giggles.

“Well, Hunk does make a mean makeshift kedgeree.” She teases him.

“If only I knew what that was.” He kisses her neck again, “I could be offended by your comparing me to an earthling breakfast dish.”

She laughs. “No one knows what it is.” She says as he continues his assault on her neck, “I’m taken to understand it’s a delicacy.”

“I can think of better.”

“Stop it.” She giggles as he finds a ticklish bit, “Or we’ll never… disengage.”

“Disengage?” he asks amusedly, “You aren’t a hangar docking point, Princess.”

“Do you prefer ‘deflate’?” she challenges with a peck to his ear, “Or perhaps ‘decompress’?”  

His disapproving frown is quickly dissolved by her melodic laughter. “Fine.” He says, pausing to find the most hideously boring thing he could think of, “I’ll just have to talk about the history of Galra data encryption protocols.”

“Do you usually make women fall asleep with sheer boredom?”

His lips meet hers in a sloppy kiss and he gives her a little roll of his hips. “I’m sure I can think of other things to do while we wait.”

Allura hums in anticipation as he kisses her again.

Breakfast, is most definitely a lost cause.

 

* * *

 

 

It is lunchtime before she finally emerges in the dining room. Keep calm, she thinks, they are only earthlings. They can’t read her mind and they certainly can’t smell her, although she had scrubbed herself almost raw in the bathtub trying to make sure that no one did.

Quiznak, they are all looking at her. She groaned inwardly. Why did this all make her feel so guilty? What was it any of their damned business, if she decided to string him up and use him like he was the last man alive? Peace had certainly been achieved on less.

“Ah, good to see you Princess!” Coran calls from his seat, “I’m glad to see you’ve returned to us well-rested.”

Allura feels a drop of sweat run down the back of her neck. “Oh, thank you Coran.”

“Have you seen Emperor Lotor on your travels? I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him this morning.”

“Nor I.” she lies, “I believe he was intending on researching encryption protocols for the comet ship in his quarters.” She says, “He’s probably he’s put himself to sleep.”

“Well when he’s ready to be disturbed, we’ve got a few communications from the Olkari that we’d like you both to take a look at. And Upitiria are wanting us to set dates for the Coalition Gala Ball.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Allura can see Lance elbowing at Shiro’s ribs, mouthing ‘ask her’. Shiro shakes his head.

“You ask her.” He says, “What are you, five?”

“What are you talking about?” Every one of them sits bolt-upright in their seats as Allura’s eyes settle on Hunk, the guiltiest-looking of them all. “What?”

“Erm…” a bead of sweat drips down Pidge’s face, “Turns out it’s… Pancake Day, soon.”

“Is that another one of your Earth festivals?” she asks, an eyebrow raised as she slides her tray onto the table beside them.

 

* * *

 

 

Five doboshes later, Allura is sorry she asked.

“No. Absolutely not. Never again.”

“What? No fair!”  

Allura folds her arms across her chest. “I think we can all agree that the vertigoberries was a ridiculous notion.”

“Whaat?”

“No!”

The vertigoberries were now long gone, the unfortunate victims of Allura’s throwing arm into the main garbage chute. She crosses her arms over her chest. “As was the rest of the debacle.” She says, “With the exception of Hunk’s meal, perhaps.”

The whole debacle. Is that how she would describe that fateful moment with Lotor on the bridge? The moment she was sure she had found her soulmate in her worst enemy?

“Come on Princess.” Coran twiddles his moustache between his gloved fingers, “Are you sure you didn’t have any fun?”

Her mind races back to the thought of Lotor’s kiss and her body freezes.

Snap out of it!

“I absolutely forbid any Earthling festivities…” she burst out, “Until the negotiations with the Empire have been finalised.”

 

* * *

 

 

The sadness on their faces had almost been enough to move her to sympathy.

Allura growls to herself, locking herself in her quarters at the end of the day. She throws herself down in front of her dressing table and pulls her hair out of its bun, starting to hurriedly untangle the knots with her fingers. None of them had really said that much to her since asking her for permission to hold another earthling festival in her honour. When the bridge was quiet, she could tell something was very wrong. Nothing had been quiet on board the Castle since the day she had awoken to them. She didn’t usually mind being the disciplinarian, it was necessary sometimes, and she’d come to accept that sometimes that made her a killjoy.

No, she couldn’t have them focusing on trivial matters when the universe was at stake.

She groans. She supposed, in that case, she had better make a point of forgoing her morning lie-ins.

She starts pulling at her hair with a brush, yanking it through the tangles instead of teasing them out. Why does she feel so guilty?

She can feel the claws of the mice tweaking at her gown as they climb up her legs and into her lap, one by one squeaking a murine greeting. Her lips purse in a frown. “Little friends, am I being too harsh?”

“I suppose they have earned it…”

Maybe she should make it up to them.

A knock on her door distracts her from her thoughts. “Enter.” She calls, glad to recognise the weight of Lotor’s long steps coming over the threshold and she relaxes.

She says nothing until the door is firmly locked behind him. “Lotor.” She says determinedly, “I need you to help me research earthling breakfast dishes.”

She is sure she will remember his perplexed expression for the rest of her days.

 

* * *

 

 

 “I want _no_ part in this.” He had said, but it was too late to go back now, he was in it up to his neck just as much she was.

The ingredients were just as hard to come by as she imagined the Christmas ones had been for Hunk and the others. Secret night-time excursions to the market moons in disguise were called for. A little Altean shifting had made her unrecognisable. She beckoned at him to do the same, and he felt a small pang in his heart when he saw the realisation in her face that he could not do the same.

She saw the ache in his eyes the moment after, and made herself busy dusting at his shoulders and pulling a long cape over them. “You are far more handsome as you are.” She tells him, smiling and pressing a kiss to his cheek where she knew his marks were, hoping, but doubting it would truly be enough to console him. “I couldn’t bear to lose you in those crowds.”  

His cheek tingled pleasantly in response to her kiss, and he felt a little consolation.   

It took several movements to acquire all the necessary ingredients. Allura had taken to hiding them in her chambers. It was the only way she could keep them out of sight, Hunk knew the kitchens like the back of his hand and Lance and Pidge could sniff out food from at least a mile away.

To Allura and Lotor’s dismay, these ingredients seemed to go stale, and then they started to smell, leaving them with no choice but to sneak around in the dead of the night cycle to the rubbish chutes and back again.

The final test for both of them had been Kaltenecker. Allura had seriously thought that Lotor might get onto his fighter and never return when she told him exactly how they were to acquire the excretion. He had been perturbed enough by the eggs when the dealer had told them where they came from.

So, there they stood, in the holodeck, bucket in hand, stool in the other. Lotor had lived for over 10,000 deca-phoebs, and seen atrocities no one should see in a universe torn apart by tyranny, yet nothing in his considerable education had prepared him for this.  

“Why aren’t you doing this?” Lotor complains as he perches his massive frame on the tiny stool next to the odd mammalian creature, flipping the tails of his armour over the back of it, “It was your idea after all.”

“Because, it’s… your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Yes. I handled the eggs.”

“The eggs don’t kick, or bite.” He watches as the black and white monstrosity raises her tail dangerously, “Or defecate.”

“How can you possibly know that?” she asks, annoyed at his continued resistance, “Here, Lance showed me to do it, you just grip it like this…” she makes a gesture with her thumb and forefinger, “And run your hand down. And repeat.”

A bead of sweat drips down his forehead as his shoulders slouch. “The things I do for intergalactic peace.”

Lotor grimaces as he extends his hand, and both of them watch, wide-eyed in horror as a stream of white fluid squirted out of the end of the teat. He is fully prepared for this beast to attack in retaliation, and is left in surprise when it ignores him and continues cudding a mouthful of grass. He set his jaw bravely as Allura reminds him that they need at least a bucketful.  

As they wander back up the hallways towards the pantry, trying desperately not to make a noise and not to spill anything from the bucket, Allura hears Lotor hissing to her awkwardly. “If we live through this… You owe me, Princess.”

 

* * *

 

 

Finally, the day has arrived. “Pancake Day”, or “Shrove Tuesday”, they learned, was another Earth religious festival, except this one seemed to revolve around giving up lavish food, rather than consuming it until one could explode. Counter-intuitive, she thinks, but who is she to judge?

She had chosen a day when Shiro was taking them out on a training exercise, and then had feigned illness. Lotor had made himself scarce, and Coran was left busy on the bridge in her absence.

Hunk had only recently started making use of the kitchens again. The nutritional goo that they made their usual meals from was really only meant to be an emergency food supply, and had remained so since she had come out of stasis. Before then, she remembered it would bustle with chefs, and emit wonderful smells that as a child, she used to entertain herself sitting outside the large double doors, guessing what they would serve for supper.

Whilst initially reluctant to participate in the preparations, Lotor did seem to enjoy listening to her whittle on about the peaceful times on Altea, leaning against the kitchen side with his arms folded, and his head peacefully tilted to one side as if he could imagine it himself. She wished he could have seen it.

The first batch, she burned. That was alright, she thought, she had allowed time and resources for a trial run of two. Lotor relented and removed the dirty crockery from the workspace, mostly because it was annoying him and his need for tidiness. He removed his vambraces and gloves, rolled up the sleeves of his suit, and washed everything, so that she would have equipment when she would inevitably burn it all again.

She did.

Four times in total. Not including the time she flipped a pancake into the extractor fan. Fortunately Lotor was tall enough to remove the evidence before Hunk could see it.

They just about managed to lay the table in time for the others to get back from training.

“Princess?” Coran asked, puzzled as they filed into the dining room, “What is all this? I thought you weren’t feeling well?”

“I’m quite alright Coran.” She smiles as Lotor leans against the wall in the background, “Today has been full of trials and tribulations.”

Hunk eyes the table suspiciously. “Did you…cook…?”

She grins with a nod, until she realises that they are all wearing terrified expressions. “You haven’t even tried it yet!”

“I’m sure it’s great Princess.” He says, “I’m just wondering what you possibly could have made that would go with both… ‘goolab spiffle’ and tomato ketchup?”

She had found a few things in the market, and a few more deep in the kitchen cupboards – those things didn’t really go out of date.

She sighs. “I made pancakes.”

“What?”

“Really?”

She rolls her eyes. “I realised that it wasn’t fair to withhold your Earth traditions from you.” She says, “You all work so hard and, I appreciate the value of a little rest. As well as, a little reminder of home. And I wanted to make it up to you all.” She turns to Lotor, who is hoping desperately to be ignored, “Lotor helped as well.”

Her admission was followed by a short silence, one which said all it needed to, before someone thought of something to say.

“Allura, that’s so sweet.”

“Totally awesome.”

“Thanks, both of you.”

“Nice!” says Pidge, flying into her seat, “When do we eat?”

 

* * *

 

 

Allura and Lotor watched silently as the other tucked into the feast. Even Coran was willing to get involved, and they both shared a look that promised never to tell him what was in the delicious ‘pancakes’. Lance had piled on as many toppings into his as he could, even those that she wouldn’t have considered complimentary.

“If you put enough stuff on ‘em, they’re not half bad.” He had exclaimed, and Allura had glared at him, spatula in hand.

“These are great Princess.” Hunk gives her the thumbs up between inhalations. “Parfait!”

Thank the Ancients they had been well-received. Allura smiles to herself, proud of her efforts as she sits beside them. Hunk was definitely right, good food really was the key to good diplomacy.

Shiro smiles as he raises another forkful to his mouth, “Are you sure you’re not going to try any Princess?”

“Oh no that’s not necessary!” She flails, waving the spatula in the air, “I made them for you, anyway.”

Lance gives a very wide, very wicked grin. “As per the very sacred Earth tradition,” he says, “The host _must_ indulge with the party.” He snickers, pushing two plates in front of her and Lotor and watching them glare downwards at the pancakes as if they had smelled something offensive. Revenge was a dish best served from Kaltenecker, after all.

“We couldn’t possibly.” Says Lotor, gulping silently.

“We’ll be offended. On this sacred day.”

Hunk grins as he catches on. “Very offended.”

Fine, she thinks. Tentatively putting down her spatula and picking up her fork, Allura forced a diplomatic expression onto her face as she dug the fork into the earthling concoction, the one she had almost certainly made to taste revolting, made from the most unsanitary ingredients imaginable. She would rather have thrown herself onto the sacrificial fires of Arus.

In the name of peace, she thinks, and raises the fork to her mouth. Lotor reluctantly follows suit. She notices his political mask is far better than hers.   

Allura rolls the food around in her mouth for a few seconds, and internally breathes a sigh of relief as it dawns on her that it isn’t unpleasant. Much the opposite in fact. It is sweet-tasting, with a fluffy texture and buttery undertones.

Her mouth waters – it’s delicious!

Bursting out into a surprised smile, Allura takes another mouthful, and then another. “Tell me, which is the best condiment to accompany these?” she asks, reaching towards the variety of little dishes they had put out.

“Oh my gosh, where do I even start?” Hunk says, “Usually chocolate, or salted caramel, or fruits, with cream, if you’ve got a sweet tooth, or ham and cheese if you’re more of a savoury person. Personally I highly recommend the goolab spiffle with the kaffleberry compote.”

“Exquisite!” She exclaims, loading her plate quite merrily until she notices Lotor sitting quietly beside her, almost frozen with a blue-ish tinge over his face. Perfectly poised as always, but she could still see that something was amiss. He raises a hand to his throat as he swallows his mouthful, and washes it down with a large glass of water.

Gently she places a hand over his thigh under the table, and he turns to her as he registers her touch. “Lotor?” she whispers, drowned out by the din of the others stuffing their faces, “Are you alright?”  

“I am quite alright Princess.” He says in a hushed whisper, “I am merely reminded of the Galra’s intolerance to sweet things.”

“What?”

He wipes his mouth politely and pretends to play with some more pancake on the end of his fork, however Allura suspects he would rather fly naked onto Central Command than eat it.

“Our, tastebuds are rather vestigial compared to our sense of smell.” He says, “We are more used to a meat-based diet.”

“You can’t taste it?”

“On the contrary, I can taste it.” He grimaces as the aftertaste stings at his throat, “It’s almost unbearably sour.”

“Oh Lotor I’m so sorry.” She says, mortified, “I didn’t realise.”

Why would she? He thinks. She wouldn’t have a clue what he could and couldn’t eat, or drink, or do. He wasn’t fully Altean, and he wasn’t fully Galra either. He was a hybrid, a biological anomaly, and a plethora of unknowns. He watches her form the corner of his eye as she cleverly diverts their attention away from them. If his plans – his dreams – came to fruition, and she consented to be his Empress, theoretically, would they even be able to – he gulped again - have children?

He is distracted from his thoughts by Lance’s annoying jibes at the remains on his plate, but Allura silences him easily, and pushes Lotor’s plate away, he thinks he hears her ask Coran to find him something more appropriate.  

“Please don’t concern yourself.” He says, “I am fine.”

Lotor shivers as he feels Allura grasp his hand in hers under the table and squeeze it gently, out of sight of the other paladins that sat so close by.

“I promised I’d make it up to you.” She whispers with a smile as she strokes the back of his hand with her thumb, the slightest glint in her eye, “So I thought you should know, I’m planning on being somewhat indisposed in the morning.”

She raises her glass to her lips innocently, thinking of how deliciously indisposed he was going to be in the morning once she was done with him.

His lips tweak into a wicked smirk, and he squeezes her hand back in approval. They remained that way for the rest of the evening, hands clasped while the paladins happily chattered away in the background, completely unaware. Only Coran gives her a knowing look, and only for a tick, as he places another steaming plate in front of Lotor. Allura gives her advisor a discrete and meaningful nod. She knows exactly what she is doing, and exactly what she wants. She knows she never wants to be without him.

Suddenly the bitter aftertaste was long gone.

Lotor exhales softly. Bed, and Allura’s embrace, was all that he wanted.


End file.
